Koyomi Mizuhara, Ace Attorney!
by HeartFout
Summary: First case has been rewritten. A Fool's Turnabout: Yomi defends an old friend on a murder charge...


Outside, the day was warm and dry. Children played on the swings and roundabouts in a park, while tired office workers puffed their way along in shirts and sweat to find lunchtime sustenance. The bird's on the trees gave an occasional tweet from within the leafy branches, next to windows thrown open to the noise of the traffic below in an attempt to make the temperature indoors bearable.

Inside the defendant's lobby however, there were no windows. There was a sofa, worn from the years of people, innocent and guilty, sitting on it and wondering what the verdict would be. There was a spider plant sitting in the corner, leaves wilted from lack of water. Two stern faced guards stood in front of the door leading to the courtroom proper, while a small, plump man talked to a tall young woman who was standing by other door in the room, standing ramrod straight, looking straight ahead.

Her face, hidden beneath two round glasses that reflected an unusually large amount of the light away from them, was set. Her tone was clipped and sharp.

"It is nearly nine o'clock." She said. "Why haven't they brought her here yet?"

"Oh, I daresay she'll be here soon" Replied her companion, waving an airy hand. "You needn't worry, they won't start the trial without her."

"But I need to speak with her."

"Don't worry, there will be time in the trial for that."

"What?" She turned her head sharply to look at him. "I can't go in there without at least knowing what she says happened. That would be foolish. Damn foolish."

The man sighed, and rubbed his balding head. He looked tired. "Koyomi, I agree that it would be helpful. But listen. You must learn this Koyomi, and it is very important. Do not trust what people say in court." He caught her opening her mouth and cut her off. "Koyomi, I've had forty years experience in court. Listen to me. What people say is rarely correct. They may lie, even if they aren't actually guilty. They may be mistaken. Eye witnesses have, at best, a fifty percent accuracy rate. What we must rely upon is the evidence. If she is innocent, and I believe she is, the evidence will show you the way. The evidence does not lie, it can only be presented wrongly. Trust in her innocence, and the evidence will show her to be innocent. I promise you this."

Yomi stared down at her feet. She was regretting taking this case at such short notice. She checked her watch. The hands read twenty past nine. The trial was supposed to begin at nine. What was taking so long? Did they do this to all the new defence attorneys, make them sweat by having them stand out here, forced to prepare a case on the fly? If so, she didn't see the humour in the situation.

She was about to ask one of the two guards what was happening when one of them finished a conversation on his radio.

"Miss Mizuhara?" He asked, gesturing towards her. "Apologies, the defendant was taken in for last minute questioning. She is already in the court room. Please, step this way."

Yomi opened her mouth and then bit back a retort that was forming. As satisfying as it would have been to explain to the guard exactly what she thought of this new arrangement, as well as not informing her beforehand that this was happening, it would wasted on the messenger. In fact, it bode well for her. If the prosecution had such a pathetic case that it needed this sort of last minute work, then maybe this battle wouldn't be so far up stream as she thought. She smiled slightly as she pushed open the doors. The effect was quite frightening, since she showed teeth.

The courtroom was stuffy and oppressive. The defence attorney stood behind a desk to the left, facing the prosecutor's, which was filled by a rather old man with a curious certain of black hair and a rather smug smile on his face. By him was a table covered with various items of evidence, guarded by two stony faced young men. Above them were rows of benches leading up, with people watching them. Some were law students, pencils over the page to make notes on the trial, while there were some local reporters and some people who appeared to only be there for the morbid fun of it. And above them was an even older man, with a long beard and a focused expression. His appearance of grandeur and power was somewhat ruined by the amount he was sweating in his long black robes. A damp hand ran a soaking cloth over his forehead.

Yomi wasn't looking at any of this however. She was staring at the person in the defendant's box behind her. She was still the same as she had been last time they had met, except that something was gone. Possibly it was the lack of frantic hand gestures, or maybe just the fact she wasn't shouting at the top of her voice, but it was like a circuit had been switched off. She looked, well, scared. Which, in itself, was frightening.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Tomo Takino. Is the prosecution ready, Mr Payne?"

The man nodded.

"Yes, your honour."

"And the defence?" asked the judge, turning around to face Yomi. She took a deep breath. "Not quite, your honour. I wish to ask the prosecution why Tom, the defendant I mean arrived so late."

Payne shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid that's out of my hands Miss Mizuhara. The head prosecutor wished to speak to her about an unrelated case, that is all."

Yomi scowled at the new messenger of bad news, and swore that mere rank would not protect the head prosecutor. But no matter. She had to concentrate on the case in hand.

"In that case, the defence is ready, your honour." The judge moved back slightly in his chair after hearing her sharp tone, and cleared his throat hastily.

"Very well. Mr Payne, please begin your opening remarks. And Miss Takino," he said as an afterthought. "Would it be possible for you not to be so loud? I'm afraid I may be getting a headache." Tomo scowled, folded her arms and began muttering under her breath.

Mr Payne cleared his voice, and began to speak in a high, slightly nasally voice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court, today I wish to prove to you that the defendant, Tomo Takino did maliciously and brutally kill the prosecutor Morgan Vicier three days ago. And if you would just look at this photo, you will see that it is, indeed, brutal."

A security guard by the evidence table handed a photo to Yomi. It showed a woman, perhaps thirty years old, lying on her back on a leather sofa similar to the one outside in the courtroom lounge. Her eyes has a vacant stare, and blood ran down from her forehead down her cheeks, like perverse tears.

Her hair used to be blonde, but was now dark brown with blood. Her high forehead was broken in the middle, with a large crack like a crescent moon that ran from side to side. Her features, sort of pretty, but not quite, were locked in an expression of surprise that would last until she rotted.

After giving them enough time to take in the photo, the Judge looking as if he was regretting having breakfast before seeing it, Payne continued.

"The accused was found standing over the body holding the murder weapon in her hand by a cleaning lady, Miss Lily Densi, who called the police at once. The suspect was apprehended approximately ten minutes afterwards." He said, spreading his hands out. "And that is the case your honour. More open and shut than a children's pop up book, I believe."

"Yes, it would appear so indeed. Poor poor Morgan. She was a good lawyer. A very good one indeed. "

"Precisely your honour. In fact, she was due to be in this very courtroom today." Said Payne, making a remorseful face. "I think finding her killer guilty will be an excellent way of remembering her."

"Still, we have had a stroke of luck to find her killer holding the murder weapon!" The Judge shook his head "An unlucky incident for a would be killer, but lucky for us."

"Sir" said Payne. "She did die."

"In that case then, a would be escaped killer." Corrected the Judge, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers, looking deep in thought.

Yomi looked around. Everyone else in the court was waiting for the Judge, as if he was deliberating whether Tomo was guilty or innocent already. She scowled.

"Your Honour?" She said. "Your honour?" He remained staring into space, motionless. "Your Honour!"

At the sudden shout, the judge snapped back into life. "Oh, dear me." He shook his head again. "I'm so sorry, I spaced out. What is it, Miss Misaharit?"

"Mizuhara, your honour." Corrected Yomi. "And I was wondering if would be possible for us to continue the case at hand? I am curious as to the exact details of the case myself."

"Ah yes. Details details details. It would be good to learn more about the case. Mr Payne?"

"Well, um, uh." Said Payne, wringing his hands. "I do have some witnesses who could undoubtedly give us a better view of the case..."

"Well, then, show them in, Mr Payne." Said Yomi, pronouncing the name like a rather unfortunate foot fungi. Beside her, the short man chuckled. Payne turned on him.

"And what exactly is so amusing, Mihama?"

Obi Mihama spread his arms weird. "To think that you would be so desperate as to rely on an appeal to emotion to win the case without giving the defence a chance to make their own. You really have fallen on hard times, Mr Payne."

Payne's eyes narrowed. "I am perfectly capable of winning, Mihama."

"Then call in your first witness" interjected Yomi. "And stop acting like a murder trial is a game."

"Very well. I call Miss Densi to the stand!"

**AN: Now, you may well be thinking that me rewriting this case is stupid. That, and I haven't updated for nearly a whole damn year, but anyway, there is a reason. A very simple one.**

**The original case, as I was writing it, broke my own willing suspension of disbelief. That's not a good sign. Not a good sign at all. Blame it being originally thought up on a redeye flight from France. So anyway, I'm restarting, and this time I have the entire fic, including the rest of the cases, planned out, so hopefully that won't happen again, and this will be updated more often.**

**That is, hopefully around once a fortnight, instead of once a year.**


End file.
